


The Time-Out Box

by Rose Gold (HailsRose)



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: AU: Garmadon and Misako raise Lloyd, Child Lloyd, Family, Gen, Gen Work, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HailsRose/pseuds/Rose%20Gold
Summary: In Lloyd's defense, he never left the box.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	The Time-Out Box

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why but I've been on a massive kick with writing several one-or-both-of-Lloyd's-parents-got-to-raise-him fics and they're all sitting in my drafts and idk, man. I don't know how to deal with it (I haven't been in this fandom for 4+ years). So, here's one of them about Garmadon being the walking epitome of sass (yes, he is, shush), itty bitty Lloyd adopting his habits, and getting in trouble for it.
> 
> And yes, this is shamelessly ripped off of that Tumblr post about the time-out bucket. No, I will not feel bad about it.

Lloyd didn't say it first.

Technically, that was his dad.

His very loud, sarcastic, funny dad who never regretted a thing he'd said ever. Unless that thing happened to have been said to his mom, in which case, there were regrets all around for everyone. But only for a little bit because his mom had a mouth on her too, she was just better at hiding it. Not that her attempts meant much to Lloyd, who kept finding all the best—see: inconvenient—hiding spots in the house. Underneath the kitchen sink or that squeaky spot in the floorboards that could fit a whole toddler to name a few.

He'd overheard his dad half-shrieking it— _the words he should not have said_ —after his mom soaked him with the kitchen's faucet hose, at eight o'clock at night, way past Lloyd's bedtime. Earlier, he'd been rolling around in bed, absolutely beguiled by the gargantuan package his parents had hidden in their room. They'd told him it didn't belong to him and not to peak because it most certainly wouldn't be given to him on his birthday. Lloyd was smart, he knew a lie when he saw one. So, he sneaked out of bed, avoided all the creaky spots on the hallway floor, and halted just moments before he tumbled into his parents' late-night conversations. He had hoped to overhear them talking about him but he got something just as fantastic.

But Lloyd digressed.

The point was, he didn't say it first. Therefore, he shouldn't get in trouble for it. His preschool teachers disagreed.

"We don't say mean things to each other. You need to go sit in the time-out box."

Lloyd stomped his foot and jut out his bottom lip. "No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do, Lloyd. Go sit in the time-out box. Thirty minutes."

"What?" Lloyd croaked, sounding a little too much like his teacher had squeezed the life out of one of his frog friends living in his backyard's pond. He could feel pressure, hot and heavy and furious, building up behind his eyes. He glowered at the floor, overwhelmed with the desire to cry and the requisite to tell his teachers that they were stupid, to yell it from the rooftops until his throat stung with fire. With his poor little brain torn between the two options, he settled on the one compromise he knew how to do: scream. Scream with all the little ounces his four-year-old body could put together.

* * *

The teacher hadn't expected the high-pitched and, frankly, underworldly noise Lloyd let out. She spent a good five minutes trying to calm him down and a terrible seven minutes waiting it out. Lloyd had a _powerful_ pair of lungs. One could peg him as unreasonable almighty, considering both of his parents had a stubborn streak several miles long. In all honesty, the preschool probably should have known what they were getting into when they took in Garmadon's son.

By the time Lloyd calmed enough to do anything about it, the teacher decided to reduce time-out time to eighteen minutes. But for all of Lloyd's shorter-than-a-burning-matchstick patience, it might as well have been the same. He folded his arms and curled up in a tiny ball, the hood of his jacket yanked up over his blond mop of hair, surrounded by the walls of a cardboard box. The words: "The Time-Out Box," were written in thick, black sharpie across the front.

Lloyd sat in the box for the next several minutes, lamenting the unjustness of his teachers and the fact that all of his classmates got to play outside for the last shred of classtime before their parents came to pick them up. Meanwhile, he'd have to wait here for mom and dad or until a teacher decided to let him go. Whichever came first.

_Unless..._

Lloyd suddenly got a brilliant idea. He grinned at the excellency of his ingenious and promptly latched onto the parallel sides of the box. He jerked himself forward and much to his delight, the box shifted with him. Lloyd could have cheered bloody murder for how great this was.

Slowly but surely, Lloyd scooted the box away from the corner and toward the door. None of the teachers were in the room and he wasn't breaking the rules, but the door opening inward offered a challenge. The little gears in his head turned over each other as he slowly figured out how to reach the door handle while keeping his feet planted in the box.

Eventually, after several minutes, he managed to keep it open long enough to slip the box through and have the door gently shove him the rest of the way into the hallway. He looked down one end of the hallway into the recess yard, where hoards of screaming children his age darted around playing. He scooched the box once that direction before it abruptly hit him—mom and dad came to get him from the other side of the building, through the doors that were far away.

Lloyd glanced once at the playground, then turned the box the opposite way.

What was one recess time to several times playing with his parents?

If he just left the preschool, he could go right home to drink hot chocolate and scribble in his coloring books with mom. His dad would probably play Sea Monster with him again. That sounded amazing.

While Lloyd did struggle to get through the double set of doors leading outside, he eventually made it (all way saying words he shouldn't know under his breath). The sky had a grey blanket of clouds pulled over it, the sun was nowhere in sight. The vacant parking lot was huge and spanned so far he could barely see the end of it. Lloyd felt a lump form in his throat. But no matter, he just needed to pretend to be... Clutch Powers! He could be exploring a dark cave that didn't seem to have an end. He needed to persist.

Never quit!

He set out on his long journey, moved bit by bit, ever slowly approaching the pavement.

And then, a swell of joy the size of a star rose in Lloyd's chest. Right there, turning the corner, came mom and dad, coming to pick him up from school. He'd recognize mom's beautiful long hair and dad's perfect smile anywhere. He scooched faster, almost breathless with anticipation.

"Mom! Dad!" The words tore from his throat, vigorously leaping across the parking lot to find Garmadon and Misako thrilled to see their little boy again if not seriously confused. Lloyd could care less about that, he just needed to get to them, needed to tell them about everything that happened today. He was so. Darn. Close. _He could make it!_

"LLOYD GARMADON!"

Lloyd's heart dropped into his stomach. A pair of preschool teachers came tearing from the entrance of the school and cleared the parking lot in a mere fraction of the time it took him to get there. They scooped him up, prompting his parents to race over in concern. All he could do now was pray they would rescue him from prison.

* * *

To say the preschool teachers went into hysterics would have been an understatement. They spent a good chunk of time running themselves through a handful of breathing exercises, then another good chunk apologizing for not keeping an eye on Lloyd and for practically losing him long enough to assess whether they should call the police. Garmadon and Misako had to assure them that as long as Lloyd didn't have a scratch on him or a hair out of place, then it was _fine._ They weren't angry just... extremely baffled as to why their kid was sitting in a cardboard box in front of the preschool. That explanation took twice as long.

At the end of it, the two preschool teachers continued to heave their lungs out with their heads between their knees. Garmadon held Lloyd snugly in his arms, periodically glancing between him and Misako. Lloyd, the smug little runt, stuck his tongue out and shot them the evil eye.

"I didn't leave the box!" He piped.

Misako chewed on her lip, unsure what to tell the teachers. She honestly felt kind of bad.

"I mean," she sighed out after awhile. "He makes a solid point. He didn't leave the box."

One of the teachers passed out right then and there. Whether it was due to relief that they wouldn't be slaughtered or horror that Misako chose to take her son's side in all this, no one could say. The other groaned something soulful and put her head in her hands.

"Please, Mrs. Garmadon, I know you have good intentions but don't. Encourage him. I'm begging you." She remained quiet for a bit as she gathered the strength to stand up straight. "He's... spunky enough as it is."

Garmadon dissolved into merited glee and hugged Lloyd as much as he would allow it, whispering praises about how proud he was of his son, how Lloyd was _so smart and clever, that's my boy._ Why anyone wondered how Lloyd became a wild child was the true mystery. 

"Can I ask you something?" The teacher managed once she realized that it would just be like this for a bit. Misako inclined her head, indicating her listening ear. "Where did your son learn to call someone a 'half-heathen wretch,' anyway?"

Misako put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Clutching Lloyd as though his life depended on it, Garmadon skipped right past the stage of distress and proceeded to die of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I assure you, after this. They had a talk with Lloyd about not repeating the things they say. If that assuages anyone's worries.


End file.
